Goodnight Kiss
by Countess of Cobert
Summary: Robert and Cora end up with the house to themselves and dinner alone. In the love charged atmosphere will Robert and Cora finally forget Simon Bricker? And will love blossom into goodnight kisses below stairs too? COBERT, CHELSIE and BAXLEY! Set after series 5.
1. Chapter 1

AN: this is T rating for the first 4 chapters, probabaly lower actually, but the last one got a little out of control! Anyway enjoy!

* * *

Cora sashayed into the library pleased with the telephone called she just shared with her eldest daughter. She knew she was being selfish at being pleased that her daughters were staying the night with Rosamund, she knew it was selfish to be excited at the prospect of dinner with just Robert. It was with these thoughts of possible outcomes of dinner alone that she wandered into the library and headed for the hunched over figure of her husband at his desk.

"Darling,that was Mary on the telephone. She and Edith are going to stay the night with Rosamund." Cora gets a little disheartened when all she gets in response to her announcement is a huff. An announcement that she thinks is a great opportunity for them to spend some quality time together, that hadn't been that prevalent in their marriage for the last few months. They were getting there it was true, but they weren't quite what they were before Bricker had been made known to them. She takes a breath and goes for the plunge. "Which means it is only us for dinner." He still doesn't turn to look at her and she reaches her hands forward and massages the tense muscles of his back. He seems to relax a little, the pen dropping from his hand and a satisfied sigh slipping through his lips.

"It's been so long since we dined alone, I'm not sure I can even remember it." Cora blushes as he tilts his head back so he can look at her, albeit upside down, his head presses against her ribs just below her breast and she knows she blushes when Robert grins. They both jump as the door opens and Cora turns quickly to face the stoic butler. Not that he was so stoic since Mrs Hughes had got to him.

"Ah, Carson, could we have some tea? And Lady Mary has telephoned, the young ladies are staying the night with Lady Rosamund, could you please inform Mrs Patmore of the change in numbers for dinner and apologise for the inconvenience."

"Very good m'lady." Cora heard the movement of the chair behind her and turns expectantly to her husband as Carson makes his way to the door.

"Actually Carson, wait, give yourself and the footmen the night off. Her ladyship and I can manage to serve ourselves dinner." Cora's embarrassed gaze meets the critical eye of the butler as he attempts to hide the disgust at the thought of the Lord and Lady of the house serving themselves for dinner. "You could spend some time with Mrs Carson." The embarrassed inch of the butlers ears is all they see as he retreats quickly to the door. Cora's thoughts quickly return to the room as she feels her husbands warm hand creep agonisingly slowly around her waist, his breath tickles at her neck as he whispers into her ear. "You're right my dear, it's been a very long time since we dined alone, and even longer since we dined _totally_ alone." The chaste kiss to her neck is so quick she almost misses it and before her thoughts are quite back in control of themselves and her senses steadying Robert has returned to his desk his eyes fixed firmly on the table. Cora swallows the irritation that he's got one up on her and moves to sit on the settee with her book, her thoughts miles form the page thinking of only how she may tease him as he has done her.

* * *

Carson stumbles from the room his ears still pink with embarrassment. Why on earth do the Lord and Lady of the house have to be so embarrassing, can't they keep their hands and lips off each other. He swallows the thoughts of how he likes the feeling of Elsie's lips on his and let's his thoughts wander back to the lack of propriety it shows in two such prominent people in the county. He walks with poise absentmindedly to Elsie's sitting room realising later that the advantage of an evening off to spend with her really was quite a propelling factor in his decision to abandon the afternoons jobs to Molesley and Barrow, and seek her out. She sits at her desk her hair wound simply but sophisticatedly onto her head. The last few weeks since their marriage had been a learning curve of hairdressing for him as he'd admired the coif of her hair each morning. He studies her for some moments from the door, pride consuming him at the sight of the wonderful woman who had agreed to be, and now was his, for the rest of their lives.

"Mr Carson, are you going to come into the room or was creating a draft your only intention in stepping this way?" He jumps and quickly closes he door behind him.

"I'm sorry, I was admiring your beauty." He smiles at the soft blush that appears on her cheeks. It's not quite as fiery as the deep red that Lady Grantham's had been in the library a few moments before but then Carson knew the stimulant wasn't the same. He don't doubt if he kissed Elsie on the neck in full few of someone else she would blush as deeply if not a colour verging on burgundy. "Lord and Lady Grantham are dining alone tonight and they have given us the night off. There might be a film on in Ripon we could go and see."

"We could have an evening in." The sparkle in her eyes is something he's got used to and when she stands and wanders to his side he automatically encircles her corseted waist.

"I think you should stop wearing his corset. Surely it's uncomfortable?"

"Yes. But in many things I agree with you. Changing times is scary and as much as I like to keep up with them. The new more modern underwear is not something I'm quite ready to try." He tries his best to hide his disappointment. He knew how Lady Mary and all the other servants were enjoying the freedom of less restrictive garments. And he wasn't oblivious to the fact Lord Grantham could more quickly remove his wife's clothing without her corset, no servant he thought would be oblivious to this fact. The things that had happened since the new year had left some of the younger servants confused and had involved a great deal of hushing up by himself and his wife. Elsie had regularly announced that 'the lovebirds are back' and in many ways he was as glad as she was merry. Lord and Lady Grantham had been through a tough time in the last year with that Mr Bricker so much so Carson had done something he'd never done in his whole life in service, he'd hidden and burned a letter that should have been delivered to the Lady of the house. The ghastly man, with his eye black and swollen had taken the opportunity to slip a note into his hand addressed to Lady Grantham upon his departure. Carson hadn't thought twice once he'd seen Lord Grantham's taped up hand and the non existent conversation between the 'lovebirds,' the letter went to the flames and he'd had some satisfaction in watching it crinkle and curl; the corners blackened as the flames grew fiery. "Charles," the use of his first name snaps him back to reality, he turns his gaze from the long gone fluorescent flames to the woman in his arms, "so, now I have your attention, an evening in or out, which would you like?"

"In I think. However, I think we should do something special for Lord and Lady Grantham. They've had a tough time." He's amazed to see her lips curl into a smile.

"I was wondering when you might suggest that. What were you thinking?"

"I'm not sure. But I am amazed you agree with me I thought you 'didn't worship them all like I do.'"

"I don't, but her ladyship was kind to me, very kind actually. When I thought I had no hope she offered me a life. I life before an inevitable fate but it was a life and for that I am forever grateful. As to what to do, I have an idea."

* * *

Robert sits at his desk a gleeful expression turned towards the page he works on. Just when Cora had thought she had one up on him with all that massaging he'd sent her flying over the edge her blushes proving she was desperate for more. The plan for the evening was already forming in his head, he needed to make it special for Cora, it was after all about time that he showed some appreciation for her love. The last year had been difficult and it was time he proved to her that he'd definitely put it behind him, it was time to prove Bricker had not affected their relationship or his feelings for her. He thought he'd buried her insecurity each time she'd mentioned the painting and her belief that his true reason for selling it was not what he had said, but the truth was he was well aware she hadn't totally believed him; there was definitely still a part of her that was convinced he'd sold it because it reminded him of her and Bricker with all their flirting and gallery visits. Yes, those things had hurt but not half as much as the realisation that he had been in the wrong, he had been the one to push Cora to find someone else to appreciate her beauty and intellectual mind because he had been ignoring it. It was time to bury her insecurity once and for all, time to show her that he had her best interests at heart, always, and that he did enjoy her attentions.

When Carson appears with the required tea tray some moments later he drops his pen to the table and watches with total wonder as Cora pours the tea and stirs it with her signature figure of eight, something his mother had tried to get her out of the habit of doing. He slips from his chair and wanders to her side his eyes still absorbing her tiny figure in the sapphire gown she wears. The new styles had at first scared him but he must admit they have their advantages, most notably the chance to admire his wife not only at night in the dim light of their bedroom but during the day. With her collar and arms bare and even occasionally her shoulders in the evenings he has an ample amount of her creamy skin for his eyes to devour. He reclines onto the settle beside her his arm snaking around her waist, which as expected by society is only just perched on the settee. He tugs her gently trying to entice her backwards. When all he receives in acknowledgement of his attempt is a mini scowl with far too great a twinkle in her sky eyes for her to really be serious he lunges forward with his other hand and tickles her along her sides. With squeals of 'Robert' and 'stop' she eventually collapses against him, her coiffed head landing on his shoulder. She turns a pair of pink, enticing, lips towards him and her eyes glint with mischief.

"You will pay for that Robert Crawley. You will pay." Robert doesn't doubt that he will, the only thought that disturbs him is how. He's well aware she wants to get one back after his stolen kiss earlier, he'd left her in a state of annoyance after he'd failed to continue his ministrations with more than the one peck. From these quick deductions he imagines that she's likely to try and tease him and make him desperate for her touch. Tonight, he muses is going to be one desperate game of who can break whom first. As expected Cora turns her lips to him and begins kissing at his neck. Robert attempts to keep from getting excited at the sweet suckling of his skin and when her lips trail a hot pattern up his neck to his lips he moans into her mouth not only because the feeling is beautiful, as it always is, but because he can't believe he's letting himself fall for her tricks. Any moment now she's going to pull away a grin upon her face at how she's managed to discomfort him. Sure enough, the moment his senses give over to the pleasure of her mouth and his hands reach inadvertently for her waist pulling her atop him she parts their lips and waggling her eyebrows turns back to the tea previously abandoned on the table top.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. This one is all Cobert with a small touch of Baxley. Chelsie will be back next chapter and Baxley will make their first true appearance! Enjoy!

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Cora sits at her dressing table staring unblinking at the reflection before her, her thoughts thinking of only how her evening alone with Robert will unfold. Will it be like one of the evenings they used to spend together when they were within the first years of their marriage, or the more romantic evenings of the months after he had admitted his love for her. Both had been perfect in there own way, they'd laughed together and kissed and danced all in a rainbow sequence, the evenings seemed to last forever his hands seemingly never leaving her, his eyes following her every move. She'd felt so loved and she wanted that again. That feeling of being someone's and belonging where you had chosen to spend the rest of your life. The door to her bedroom opens and with it her fixed gaze breaks as the reflection of her maid appears in the glass.

"Is this the one you mean m'lady?" Baxter holds the dress up for her inspection. It was a dress she'd had her dressmaker make for her some months ago. In the months before Bricker to be exact. She'd had it made some weeks before her wedding anniversary, which was ironically nearly upon them again, with the expectation that Robert might have arranged to take her out either on the day or some time during the week and she'd had the dress made for that. It was a dress she'd never wear before the rest of the family and it had taken some courage to describe what she had wanted to the dressmaker who, despite Cora's obvious nervousness at such a suggestion had cross questioned as to whether at her age and in her position it was entirely suitable. It was a modern style, something she'd seen Edith wear part of and Rose another part but neither had worn both at the same time. The straps were non-existent and instead the dress was held around her neck on a small string of beads and tied at the back, something they called a halter neck. Unlike the dresses that Edith wore with this style of strap, Cora's was backless. It was a risqué style she knew but she had wanted it for Robert. He had been wary of the new fashions but had begun to embrace them in the last year even mumbling against her skin some nights that it was deeply distracting for him to be able to see so much of her creamy skin as he tries to eat his dinner. She had chosen to have the gown made in a rich blue, it was darker and less startling than peacock but brighter then navy.

"Yes Baxter. Thank you."

"That's quite alright m'lady." Cora stands and Baxter slips the dress effortlessly over her hair that's she'd already delicately styled. Thankfully not a single curl falls from the coif, other than the one that Cora had asked to be left dangling at her neck, specifically to tantalise her husband. She was well aware he was going to drag the evening out after she'd teased him so naughtily in the library that afternoon. "Which jewels would you like tonight m'lady. I've laid out the pearls from the other night as they match the beads on the halter neck but I wondered if there was something specific his lordship would like?"

"You're very thoughtful Baxter. The pearls would match perfectly but his lordship does have some favourites, or rather," she delves into the back of her dressing table drawer and pulls from the back the smallest, most precious box in her collection. It's not the most expensive, most glittering or biggest jewel in her collection but it is the most precious. Not because it is a precious or rare stone, the pendant is just plain gold but it's what the symbol of the heart shaped pendent with the open centre means to Cora and her marriage that is important. "This is a present Lord Grantham gave to me on our first wedding anniversary, but I only wear it when we are alone."

"Oh?" Cora laughs at the questioning expression on her maid's face. She never thought she'd find a maid she valued as much as O'Brien but Baxter had somewhat stolen her heart. She was dear, in many ways like a friend, not perhaps like Mary and Anna but they were getting there. Cora teased Baxter about Molesley and recently Baxter had got into the habit of teasing her about Robert and it was a real relationship, not the strange one she'd had with O'Brien which, if she thought back to it, she was never quite sure where she was at any given moment.

"My mother-in-law is convinced it's not grand enough for the Countess of Grantham. Equally his lordship had it made for me and she despises any public displays of affection. By not wearing it I save myself the trauma of an argument." Baxter laughs and when she recovers Cora passes her the pendent.

"It's beautiful m'lady. His lordship has very good taste, but then I suppose I knew that when he'd chosen you for his wife."

"You flatter me Baxter but let's not forget the fact his lordship desired my money a little more than me."

"Not now."

"No. Not now." She sighs as thoughts of the first sad few months of her marriage flitter slowly in her mind.

"I'm sorry m'lady I've dampened your spirit."

"Not at all. How's Molesley? I haven't had an update since Monday. Has he said anything more to you or asked you to the cinema or something?" She sees Baxter blush and she swivels quickly on her chair. "What is it?" She'd grown more emotionally invested than Robert thought necessary in Baxter's private life. She didn't like to admit it, but she loved all the modern ways in which men and women could go out together and from all she'd heard from, and seen between Baxter and Molesley, she was sure they'd be well suited. And the fact Baxter was obviously smitten, well the whole thing screamed for her to help the younger woman find the love she so deserved.

"He has mentioned a film that it coming to Ripon next week that he has invited me to go and see with him." Cora shocks herself when she glasps her hands together and springs from her chair only just refraining from grabbing the woman in a heartfelt hug.

"Have you a dress to wear?"

"Yes and a few old jewels of my mothers."

"Show me the dress tomorrow and you can always borrow my pearls, I have a couple of strings."

"M'lady, that's very kind but I think you've perhaps forgotten my past."

"I haven't. I trust you and I want you and Molesley to marry."

"I think perhaps you're even ahead of him m'lady, it's taken some time to reach this point."

"Yes well, that's men. Trust me when I say it will be nothing, then everything all at once." Baxter smiles and nods her head softly in acknowledgment of the fact. "His lordship and I never danced together until the day he proposed to me and on that day we also very almost kissed for the first time. It's still the same now, I either get Robert hanging on my every word or we don't speak all day." She fails to notice the slip of her tongue in the conversation that is becoming more and more personal. But then it had been the same way for the last few months, ever since Baxter and Molesley had come to the library with their evidence to save Bates before Christmas, they had been having ever more personal conversations.

* * *

Robert stands in his dressing room listening to the lively laughs coming from the adjoining door and he shares a look with Bates.

"Miss Baxter and Lady Grantham seem to get on very well."

"Yes," Robert had been reluctant at first about the friendly relationship forming between the pair, particularly when Cora started taking an interest in Baxter's private life. But as had been the custom lately Cora shot him to the ground exclaiming about all his friendships and the enjoyable trips and visits he takes with his friends when all she has is all the toffee nosed aristocrats his mother likes. He had lost the fight and ever since had watched the looks the pair passed between them in a state of nervous curiosity, he was convinced Cora talked of him to her maid in return for gossip on Mr and Mrs Carson and Baxter's relationship with Molesley. "They share romantic gossip. Baxter talks of downstairs and Her Ladyship of her own marriage. From what she has told me she wishes to make a match between Miss Baxter and Mr Molesley, but don't spread that any further than Anna otherwise I'll be in the dressing room."

"Does she talk of Anna and I?"

"No, the main targets are the newly married Carson's and Baxter's possible romance." Bates laughs and Robert smiles.

"It sounds like the stories Anna sometimes tells me of how Lady Mary has asked her for advice on this or that, although I must say Anna is a better secret keeper than her ladyship. You seem to know all that goes on whereas I know little of what Lady Mary says."

"Ah yes, but no doubt Baxter knows the information will be fed back to me. Her ladyship has no reason to keep it to herself unless asked to, whereas Anna is Lady Mary's servant. She is being paid for her discretion and trust."

"Of course, you are quite correct." Robert notices the crinkle of annoyance in Bates' eyes and turns quickly to face him.

"Bates, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just saying hat I don't doubt Baxter filters out what she doesn't want me to know because she knows I'm going to be told whereas Lady Mary doesn't filter what she says to Anna, she asks Anna for her opinion because she trusts her, she expects the information to go no further." When Bates nods briefly he knows he's got his friend back on side again. "Equally, deep down I think I'm pleased she has such a good relationship with Baxter. She was so upset when she lost O'Brien, although heaven only knows why, and now she has a true friend like I have you and Lady Mary has Anna."

"Quite right m'lord." He finishes by brushing the shoulders of Robert's jacket and then takes the discarded day clothes from the bed. "Is that everything?"

"Yes, thank you Bates. You may have the evening off. I'm sure I can get myself ready for bed. And if not I have no doubt Her Ladyship can help me." The sparkle he knows is visible in his eyes is reflected in those of his valet and the gentleman nods and then leaves. He doesn't knock as he turns the handle into Cora's bedroom. What he doesn't expect to see when he opens the door is an empty room. His brow furrows and he heads towards the bathroom thinking Cora may be freshening up in the cool but as he passes the dressing table he spies the elegant, loopy writing that could only belong to Cora. He whips the note from its resting place to read the elegant swirl: 'Meet me in the Drawing Room. Cora xx' the two kisses attached to the tail of her 'a' make him smile, it's the way she's signed her name ever since the long months they'd sent apart when he'd been fighting.

He's well aware he practically runs down the stairs to the drawing room but he slams the brakes on both mentally and physically when he enters and the vision of his wife fills his mind. She had always filled his mind, ever since the first time he'd seen her picture in the list of debutantes and then weeks later when he finally saw Miss Cora Levinson in the flesh he was sure he'd gasped out loud. This time, well, this time he knows he's gasped out loud when she giggles.

"You like it?" He watches as she twirls effortlessly on the spot the hem of the short dress has tassels on the bottom which swings outwards with the movement.

"It's, you're gorgeous, stunning. You always are. I'm just not used to seeing quite so much of you." She giggles again and sashays to his side, as he moves to envelope her in his arms he finds out two new features of her appearance that he had not noticed from a distance. There is no back to the dress, his hands have met smooth flesh but more importantly laying between her collar bones is the heart pendent he hadn't seen in over two years. The heart pendent that had been a symbol of his love ever since he'd given it to her. He picks it up between his fingers and twists it around, the dark blue risqué dress with no back and no shoulder straps long forgotten in the face of the gold band. The gold band that is almost as important as the one she wears on her finger, nestled near her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

The servants hall was echoing with excitement and laughter as the servants enjoyed their rare evening off. Their leaders stood silhouetted in the door frame nobody paying them any attention.

"I think we can return to the cottage Charles, Miss Baxter and Molesley have it all in order for Lord and Lady Grantham. Mr Bates has already wandered home." Elsie looks up at the man beside her, a sudden need to be in their warm cottage, the sights and sounds of work long forgotten is the most desirous feeling in the world. She feels his hand press gently to the small of her back as he eases her from the doorframe.

"Are you sure everything will be alright?" Elsie rolls her eyes at the reluctance apparent in her husband's voice at the thought of returning home, and here she was overjoyed that they had an evening to themselves.

"Quite fine. Mr Molesley is trustworthy and Miss Baxter is a dear. They will be fine."

"I didn't really mean that. I meant upstairs with Lord and Lady Grantham."

"Charles, they have asked to be left alone. To dine alone. They are quite sure of what that entails otherwise they would not have suggested the idea. I know you think they're really grand and above serving themselves but they're not. They know the most important things in life are family and each other. That's why they want to be alone. I don't doubt his lordship wants to mend broken bridges once and for all." The way Charles is convinced that Lord and Lady Grantham are above every other being on the earth infuriates her. Deep down they are just the same as all other people, desperate to spend time alone with the people they love most."

"You're quite right. But for his lordship to dismiss Bates, he doesn't do that very often." Elsie glowers at her husband, what is it men don't understand? Women like to be pampered.

"Because he doesn't often dine with only his wife."

"And Miss Baxter said her ladyship asked to be dressed in a very risqué dress."

"Mr Carson," she snaps his surname, something she has rarely used since their marriage. "I thought you'd be pleased she wasn't wearing the risqué dress for some other man. It proves she wants to let his lordship mend the bridges. Let's not judge them for it." She snatches his coat roughly from the peg and opens the door. The gust of cold night air helps to clear her head and calm her tangled nerves. She hears the skipping steps behind her as Charles races to catch up. The heavy steps are quickly replaced by his rattling breath and a large hand upon her bent elbow.

"Elsie, I'm sorry if I annoyed you. I guess I have just forgotten what they were like before the children. I remember vividly evenings when the dowager used to scrutinise them across the dinner table because they'd been out in the grounds all day and her ladyship often came back with varying amounts of the countryside on her dresses and in her hair. I suppose they want that freedom to indulge in just each other again. And since I've married I have learnt why it is so valuable." The glint in his eyes is visible even in the black night. She can't help but blush, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms about her waist and kiss her cheek, an early goodnight kiss. She is thankful her blush is invisible in the shadowy night, her step noticeably quickens as she hurries for the cottage, her husband easily keeping up with her desire filled pace as he saunters behind her.

* * *

Molesley stands in the vacated doorway of Mr and Mrs Carson admiring the willowy figure of Miss Baxter. She leans over the table as she reaches for the discarded card of the previous player. Lord and Lady Grantham now settled in the dining room, he'd taken the opportunity to sneak downstairs to speak with her, only to find her laughing and joking along with the other servants as they enjoyed the freedom of an evening without the Carson's. Molesley hesitates before he steps forward and puts his hand on the lady's back to catch her attention. He doesn't wish to interrupt their game but Mrs Carson had left strict instructions as to how they were to make the evening perfect for their employers and the next part required Miss Baxter. Molesley can't help but feel a great pride as Miss Baxter turns and he spies the rosy blush that highlights her cheeks.

"Mr Molesley, how can I help you?" He's relieved their conversation doesn't attract the other servants attention. He feels his own cheeks grow warm as he removes his hand tentatively from her back and he has to swallow the lump in his throat twice before the words finally swim into the hot air.

"It's time to go and decorate her ladyship's bedroom. They are currently having their dinner."

"Have you set up the gramophone?" As their conversation drifts to more mundane, work related things and the touching of their bodies becomes a more distant memory Molesley slowly relaxes and they laugh as they ascend the stairs to her ladyship's room an array of roses, champagne and a note form the Carson's heavy in their arms.

"Do you think they will appreciate the effort?" Her voice beaks through he silence that has accompanied their work for the last half an hour and as Molesley stands straight ready to admire their achievements he ends up studying not only the roses on the bed but the slight figure on the opposite side of the bed. Miss Baxter's slim frame with her raven black hair and the chocolate brown eyes that observe everything without so much as moving. He breaks his gaze immediately from her eyes when they meet and he shuffles the sheet on the bed for what must be the thousandth time.

"I think so. They are quite a romantic pair, we all know that. You more than most."

"Yes," her giggle is ridiculously captivating and as she continues to speak he notes very little of what she says as he repeats the sound in his mind, the beautiful chimes engraved in his memory, never to be lost.

* * *

Cora had been sitting in the chair beside Robert but the urge at the end of their main course to move to sit on his lap was too great and when his arms had slowly encircled her waist and she'd pried his black tie from its place and rubbed her fingers in slow circles on his neck thoughts of finishing her dinner had been left far behind. His hand runs sleepily around her neck and traces the path of her necklace and she is greatly gratified when he twists the loose ringlet she'd asked Baxter to leave from her coif around his finger. Her hands slips quickly down his front and she makes to push the jacket from his shoulders. She's relieved when he doesn't resist and his eyes, currently speckled with navy, survey her skin hungrily. Her hands seem to arrive at the buttons on his shirt before she asks them to and her lips meet his in a mesmerising dance. However, when the silent music controlling their lips stops she's surprised to find his eyes have returned to the sky blue they usually possess, with no navy streaks, and his finger reaches immediately for her lips stopping her joining their mouths in a waltz once again.

"Later my darling." She wishes to demand like a petulant child that she can't wait until later but the fire on her lips still sizzling from their kiss denies her the opportunity to think. "We haven't finished eating." It irritates her how calmly he forms the word and stares into the depths of her eyes only serving to send her heart racing again. Dinner had been beautiful, with the ability to sit beside each other and talk and flirt with no difficulty, unlike the usual dinner arrangements where they have to regard each other longingly across the table. When she'd sidled onto his lap after the main she had thought he'd be ready to forgo dessert for a more desirous activity but it seemed he was desperate to set her as far on edge as possible.

Doubtless to say when she swivels her head to peek at the unknown dessert that might lie beneath the ceramic bowl she gasps and jumps in his lap eliciting a small moan from him, her previous desire is dimmed a little in the face of succulent scarlet strawberries and a bowl of freshly whipped cream hidden between them. Just as a young child would upon seeing their favourite treat upon the table or being told they may visit the sweet shop, Cora reaches for the biggest strawberry in the bowl only for her favourite hand to reach out and clasp her wrist.

"That's my job Cora." She groans about his pedantic nature but before she can utter a word she shivers and tips her head back onto his shoulder as he trails three burning kisses over her bare neck. His swollen lips leave her alone and he reaches around her before dipping the large berry in a generous amount of cream and holding it before her mouth. It was a game they had played ever since their wedding night when, in order to relax her he had bought into their bedroom a bowl of what he already knew to be her favourite fruits and had gently fed them to her as he slowly removed her clothes and kissed the bare skin exposed. He had, on that night convinced her to offer them to him too and to help him remove his clothes. It had worked and very quickly the nervousness she had felt was replaced by a desire to be kissed by him, with or without the berries.

She takes a large bite from the one loitering by her lips and in the process much of the cream remains around her lips rather than in her mouth, as she reaches to brush it away, the pad of his thumb glances over her lips and swipes the cream from her skin. She reaches for the bowl and coating the next strawberry in creams he offers it to him. She shivers when his lips shimmer on her finger and huffs when his big mouth devours the whole strawberry, they were her treat, not his!

"Robert, that's not fair I want some strawberry too."

"Really? Here I was thinking you desired my lips more than the berries. But obviously I am wrong." She knows he is teasing but she can't help pouting like a child and fluttering her eyelashes, he laughs and leaning forward kisses her squarely on the nose. "You may have my kisses later, I promise. But first I wish to finish the strawberries, poor Mrs Patmore had to change her whole plans when I went down this afternoon and demanded we had them for dessert rather than her famous raspberry meringue. She was quite devastated so you, Lady Grantham, had better eat up." She rolls her eyes at the use of her title, something he only says to her when he is set on making her suffer before giving in to her desires; it's one of his practiced methods of seduction. She lies her head back on his shoulder and let's him feed her the berries. His fingers linger longer each time she takes a bite and she desperately tries to swallow the urge to rip his shirt open, knowing that such an action will only result in him increasing the level of play to the point where she will be unable to move, speak or think and yet still she knows he will refrain from giving her what she most desires. It is for this reason she just keeps her focus on the smell and taste of the strawberry rather than his skin.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This is the second to last chapter. The last will be up a day early, Friday, as I go on holiday on Saturday. I won't be posting during the time I'm away, but I've got a whole 16 chapter story ready for when I come back, taking a look at what would have happened if Cora hadn't lost the baby. Anyway, enjoy!

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Baxter was never one to dawdle, but as she watched Molesley descend the staircase as he headed for the great hall to set up the gramophone to play the record Mr Carson had suggested would remind Lord and Lady Grantham of their first meeting she couldn't help but stand at the top and watch Molesley going about his work. She couldn't work out what the man wanted. It was true he'd invited her to the cinema later that week but she couldn't help being more pessimistic than her ladyship, after all what did that woman now about affairs of the heart? She'd been told to marry a British peer and so she had she'd just been extremely lucky to like the man her parents were happy with. Whereas Baxter, she had a choice in how far she would let her relationship with Molesley go, yes, it would be lovely to be as happy as Lady Grantham. Baxter was well aware the lady was on a permanent high when his lordship pampered her and she'd seen evidence enough of the insomnia and sadness that followed her when they had been fighting. The empty bed in the morning and not having to fear the sight of his lordship in his pyjamas, or nothing, on a regular basis had been a pleasant break for her but she knew it had taken its toll on her ladyship and she couldn't be more happy that maybe, finally, they'd totally bury their differences. She still wasn't convinced she wanted that with Molesley. She wasn't convinced she could let someone know her like Lord Grantham knew his wife. It was something she'd never thought of before, letting someone into her singular life seemed as foreign as a labour government did to her employer. She did like sharing her woes with Lady Grantham though, it was reassuring to have someone there who seemed to care, who appeared as though she wished to know her better and help her through Mr Molesley's confusing statements. For example, why on earth had he touched her on the back in the servants hall earlier, rather than just calling her name to get her attention? It was these things her ladyship helped her with, understanding the strange behaviour of men. Lady Grantham, despite her singular attachment to one man seemed to know rather a lot about a mans turn of mind. Baxter didn't doubt she'd been excessively pretty when she was a young woman as she was still a beauty at her current, more mature age, and no doubt she'd had many an admirer both here and in America. Without a doubt she would have had to get used to male attention and her play boy brother had probably added another layer of knowledge to her understanding of men.

She peers over the edge of the banister as the dining room door opens and Lord and Lady Grantham emerge from their dinner. They are both laughing and they clutch each others hands. His black tie is no longer around his neck and she spies the loose button no longer through its hole near the top of his shirt. She sighs and turns away their joint gasps at the array of candles and the quiet music her only accompaniment as she heads for the servants stairs.

Does she want that? Yes, is definitely the answer, she does want to feel loved, but she knows that really she can never really have that. The glamour they have she can't have, not when she doesn't have the money. She slips silently down the back staircase and wanders aimlessly to the servants hall. Does she want that with Molesley? To that she doesn't yet have an answer but she hopes it's a yes. A yes, because Molesley is so sweet, so likeable and she likes him, doesn't she? Doesn't she?

She stares at the bell board begging one of the bells to chime even though she knows it's not going to happen. But all too soon she hears the familiar footsteps of the man that may or may not hold her future in his hands. The man she doesn't know whether she wants to see or wants to avoid.

"Miss Baxter, there you are. Lord and Lady Grantham are dancing but I don't think it will be long before the bell rings from her bedroom. His lordship, well, let's just say he didn't look quite as well dressed as he had when Bates finished dressing him." Baxter can't help but laugh at the way Molesley struggles over the explanation, his hand scratching at the back of his neck as he fixes his gaze on the floor with embarrassment at conversing about such topics.

"Her ladyship said she'd get herself ready for bed tonight. Which, as we all know, means his lordship will be getting her ready for bed." It's her turn to blush and study the cracks in the floor. When she eventually looks up she's surprised to find Molesley has stepped closer to her, she gulps. Without thinking she takes an inadvertent step back and scolds herself when she glances back up to see Molesley's crestfallen expression.

"Miss Baxter?" She can feel the words she's been dreaded accumulating on his lips.

"Wait...Mr Molesley. I just need some more time. I, it's not that I don't like you and dislike the thought of spending the rest of my life with you, I'm just...it's just I haven't quite convinced myself what I want yet. Nor am I sure what you really want. Do you like me as a friend, do you wish to court me and marry me or do you just pity me because of my past?"

"Not the latter Miss Baxter, never the latter. I think you're a strong, brave woman to be able to rebuild a life after that. As for the other two, I've never been much good at making and keeping friends, so now that we are friends I wish not to ruin that my asking from you more than you wish to give." She takes a deep breath as her mind seizes to race, the picture becoming clear in her mind. She tries not to panic over the fact she has not only her happiness but his as well resting on her shoulders. She tires to ignore the conscience thought that she has the ability to break or make them. The ability to break a perfectly good friendship for the chance of something more that might not work.

"Thank you Mr Molesley, you're very kind." She reaches forward and pats his upper arm and she's amazed at how she likes the feeling. She looks tentatively up at him and takes a step closer a rosy hue already blossoming her cheeks. She hears him take a deep breath and she feels her own breathing stop as she touches her lips briefly to his cheek. "Goodnight."

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Robert swivels to study the candlelit hall his eyes wide with amazement. Who had done all of this? He gaze flits from Cora at his side to Molesley stood by the gramophone. The needle drops onto the touch paper and Robert feels his mouth open and close, he knows this song. He remembers this song almost note for note. The melody emitting from the speaker is the tune of the first waltz to which he danced with Cora in his arms. The best, most constructive, dance he'd ever danced. His thoughts drift away from the music to the radiant, expectant face turned in his direction.

"Shall we dance my darling one?" She doesn't answer just lifts her arms and steps into his arms. The sensation of them swinging and swaying backwards and forwards to the music occupy his thoughts and its a moment before he turns his attention back to Cora.

"Robert, are you listening?"

"Sorry darling, I was enjoying the sensation of having you in my arms without people watching us."

"So am I, but I'm afraid that there might be chatter among the servants in the morning. Molesley definitely noticed that your tie was missing."

"That was hardly my fault now was it darling?" He delights in the small flutter of her lashes as she attempts to hide her embarrassment. It had been a long time since they'd talked and flirted so easily in each other's company and Robert was enjoying himself, he dreaded the thought of the evening ending. "Cora?" She turns her bright eyes up to his. "I wanted to apologise for the last few months and all that I didn't do. I realise looking back on it that I should have taken more notice of what you wanted."

"Robert, can we not talk about this tonight." She's stopped moving with the music and she stands almost rigid in his arms. He relaxes their hold on each other and pulls her flush against him, dropping a kiss into her hair. He feels her hand from his shoulder creep towards his neck and he struggles to keep his mind on thoughts of apology when the pleasure of her fingers fills his senses.

"Yes, Cora, now. I know we've talked a little about it. About how I didn't sell the painting because you ruined it. But I have a feeling you don't believe me. I won't deny I was jealous of the attention you gave Mr Bricker and at the time I didn't realise what he was doing that I wasn't, I was blinded by the jealousy I felt. I see, looking back on it what I missed. Our anniversary, I should have taken you out or away for a few days. That's what you deserved. That night I went to Rosamund's and we fought I should have been more reasonable and I certainly should not have insulted your intelligence."

"Robert, really it doesn't matter."

"It does though Cora. It matters to me. It matters that I upset you and probably made you cry. And what really hurts is the fact I didn't trust you, when you told me you didn't invite him to your room I shouldn't have even thought of doubting you. It's been thirty four years almost thirty five now and I know you wouldn't lie to me, I was just being a prideful man and I'm sorry." He feels his heart lighten a little but it's not until her sparkling blue eyes meet his, her body relaxes and her head rests against his chest that he feels the weight lift completely.

"You know you really didn't need to apologise. I know why you acted like you did. And you're not the only one with sins to count. I shouldn't have lead him on so much. Anyway, I rather admired you when you hit him." The way she lifts her face to him, her eyes wide with mischief.

"And, what was it that you admired so much?"

"The fact you were fighting for me. It was, well, something you hadn't done for a while." He feels her fingers rubbing the hair at the back of his neck delve deeper and begin massaging his skin. They sway silently form side to side for a moment and Robert takes a moment to study her face.

Sybil's death had taken a toll on her as had the months of Mary's grief after Matthew had died and Robert had tried his best after those bouts of grief to make her feel appreciated and wanted, anything to try and ease her worry about how she was ageing. He'd found her in front of mirrors, naked, rubbing creams into her skin, it had taken some months after their return from Scotland to prove to her that he loved her the way she was, that she was still beautiful. Looking at her face he was beginning to think all that work, or at the very least some of it, had gone astray in recent months with his dismissal of her. Despite the more frequent lines upon her brow she was still beautiful, her bright eyes sparkling, her chocolate hair still as dark as it was the day they'd met, her skin still as creamy. He was determined to dote on her for the rest of their lives, they had ample prove that life was short and nobody knew when it might end. He feels her shiver as he moves his hand slowly up and down her bare back.

"When we married, my life changed forever, for the better." Heknew that of course, but it was nice for her to say it, he hadn't heard it in some time.

"Of course it did, you were marrying me." Robert feels himself laugh as she does, he couldn't remember the last time she laughed so openly in his company.

"Yes, that's true. But, with you, for the first time in my life I felt appreciated and wanted; I felt as though I belonged and that had not always been the case with my parents. I was so awfully happy, apart from those few months after the honeymoon. And I still am happy."

"Most of the time."

"No Robert, all of the time. I love you. And we have hard times. But at least we get through them. I think we get better at being married every time we overcome something else. We appreciate the other being here more than before. I wouldn't have had my life any other way." Her words seem to echo in Robert's heart as in a few split seconds he pictures his life without her, life without the woman whom he goes to sleep with, wakes up every morning with. All the things he takes for granted, gone: the kisses, laughs, looks, hugs, comfort, all the important things, the things that make each day more bearable.

"Neither would I, because honestly, you were the best decision I ever made." They stop swaying and Robert lowers his mouth to hers. He glances his nose over hers and is pleased when she giggles slightly before wrapping her arms firmly around his neck. He's not surprised when within seconds her hands have wandered down his front and he feels the cool air and her soft fingers against his chest as she makes short work of a fair few buttons. His hands wander over her back and the dress she wears gives him no end of access to her skin, he can even slip his hands beneath the fabric. He delights in the little gasp that reverberates in his mouth as he continues his ministrations on her back. The gramophones scratching makes Cora start and Robert takes the opportunity to kiss her brow and trail a pattern to her neck. He stops at her ear. "I think perhaps we should go upstairs." He watches a warm hue cover her cheeks before kissing her once more below her ear. "Would you like me to carry you?" The warm hue darkens on her cheeks and taking that as a confirmation to his plan he lifts her into his arms and grins when she squeals with the same giggle as she did the day he lifted her for the first time. When she hides her blush by burying her face in his neck, her hands still clutching at his collar he can't help but grin at how easy it is to unsteady her senses.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: this chapter increases in rating, definitely M! This is the last chapter before my holiday, but I'm very excited to be reading everyone's updates when I get back! Anyway, enjoy and look for the first chapter of my next story on Wednesday 15th April.

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When Robert put her down at the top of the staircase Cora couldn't resist the urge to squirm from his waiting arms and saunter with her hips swaying purposely from side to side down the gallery to their bedroom. As she anticipated just as she reaches her door his hands grab her around the waist and turn her so he can press her back firmly against the door. She feels the hard panels of the wood against her spine, but the most head filling sensation is Robert's lips on hers. The kiss downstairs was gentle, like snowdrops, compared to the hungry howls of the wind he now possessed with his tongue. When she thought it could get no more frantic, his movements seemed to crescendo sending her quickly into a spiralling hurricane. It had been some time since he'd kissed her so fearlessly, since before Mr Bricker she didn't doubt. Yes, they'd kissed and made love in the months since the historians departure but when compared to this, it was evident they had both been holding back, unsure how far to push the other. And now, like a thunderstorm the clouds had gathered and they were showing their passionate, unreserved nature. Nothing would stop them.

Her fingers find the soft skin at the back of his neck, the tufts of hair there seemingly dancing through her fingers as she simultaneously tips her head backwards giving him greater access to her mouth. She moans against his mouth as his tongue probes at places she hasn't felt it in months, but all too soon the storm within her is replaced only by the gasp of air as she tries to remember to breath. She hears a whistle of air from Robert as their body's acclimatise to the after math of a storm. She only has to look into his eyes, and see their dark, midnight hue, to know that he wants to recreate the storm they just had as much as she does.

She creeps a hand along the wood fumbling for the door knob as Robert's lips explore her neck with a hot vigour. When her hand finally clasps the cool metal, the shattering icy feel of the element migrates across her skin, eating away at the heat that had been tingeing it. The door falls open behind her and Cora is pleased Robert still has a firm hold of her waist otherwise she is sure she would have fallen backwards into the room. She slides her fingers into his hair again as his lips descend on hers, his hands are as insistent as his tongue as he pushes her slowly into the room. She trails her hands through his hair before cupping his face, the beginnings of his days stubble scratching at her palms. She hears the click of the door as Robert pushes it shut with his foot the only other sound in the room is Robert's guttural moan as he gathers the material of her dress at her waist and smothers her jaw in kisses which lead, in an ever increasing hungriness to her collar bone, his hands roaming her back. She pushes his jacket from his shoulders and she is pleased when he quickly shrugs out of it, leaving it to fall to a heap on the floor. Cora giggles as Robert lifts her in the direction of the bed her own hands ripping his shirt apart not bothering to undo the buttons individually. The mattress meets her spine and she braces herself for the dip of the mattress as Robert joins her, but none comes. She lifts herself onto her elbows to find him watching her, his cheeks flushed. Cora lets her eyes wander obviously over his body and she takes time to study his chest. When her gaze lingers on the strain of his trousers she knows her cheeks tinge pink but it's not from embarrassment but rather pride, pride that she can arouse her husband. She sits up, trying to put to the back of her mind the heat she feels bubbling inside of her and the emptiness her skin feels now his hands are no longer on her, and reaches towards him.

"Darling, come here." He takes a step towards her and she reaches for the waistband of his trousers, deftly unfastening it. When his pants follow suit a moment later she dares not to look up into his face. It had been a long time since she'd done this to him. A very long time. But, she wanted to, she needed to in order to prove to him that they really was nobody else. Mr Bricker was nothing. She knew they had forgiven each other and moved passed the man, but they hadn't quite given themselves up to each other. Tonight though, tonight was different. She shuffles backwards on the bed, and as expected he joins her. When he reaches for her waist she takes both his hands and taking his shoulders nudges him to lie against the pillows. He acquiesces with a questioning look in his midnight eyes. When she rubs her hand once along his strained manhood she knows he's got the idea. She pretends not to hear his pleas for her to stop and instead lowers her mouth to him. When she hears the hiss of approval from above her she closes her eyes and lets herself focus on those sounds. The sounds that prove he likes what she does. The first time she'd done this she'd been a timid nineteen year old who had asked an innocent question in the dark, she'd wanted to know if the ministrations he performed on her could be transferred to him. He'd been met with a quiet 'yes' before he'd told her it wasn't a thing that was done, the object of any sexual relationship was surely procreation. She had argued that she wished to bring him pleasure as he did her and he'd eventually explained the mechanics. They'd been equally embarrassed talking about it, but somehow the following night as she pleasured him neither had felt so unsure of the other, no doubt because both were caught up in the erotic nature of the whole thing, as they were now. As Robert delves his hand into her hair, his calling of her name allows her to know he's near his release. When he groans her name for the final time a moment later she's ready to let him recover but it seems he has other ideas. No sooner have her lips left him than she finds her head hurtling towards the mattress her own squeal its only accompaniment.

"You are one naughty woman Mrs Robert Crawley for doing such forbidden things to me and you'll pay the price." His hand reaches around her neck to unfasten the delicate string of pearls that hold her dress in place, his other hand bunches the fabric at her waist before tugging her undergarments to her knees and quickly down her shins. When he removes her dress in one fluid motion a moment later he replaces the protection it offered with his own caresses and kisses. His lips wander from her jaw to her breasts and as he takes each firm peak within his mouth in turn she hears her own moans of satisfaction echo in the room. She knows after his declaration that the next few minutes are going to be hell for her. She knows that Robert is likely to tease her until she's screaming with desire for him. Therefore it comes as some surprise to her when his lips, having reached the place she wants him most, don't stray from the site with a kiss that spells only agony for her as they dance to other sites, but continue to pepper her with touches. His tongue joins the mix a moment later and she bucks her hips against his mouth a throaty murmur of his name filtering into the stormy air. It takes almost no time at all before she can feel her arousal slithering down the heated insides of her thighs; her chest rising and falling in dramatic waves as his lips make the return journey over her body to her mouth.

She wiggles a little beneath him in a desperate attempt to fill his touch all over. Her hands roam his chest and she swirls her fingers around his nipples pleased with the mumble of her name she feels vibrate against her neck accompanied with the nip of his teeth below her ear. When her hips inadvertently lift to meet his again she feels the firmness of his arousal press against her and she gasps, her hands tugging at his silver curls once more. He bites her neck again and she knows that one will leave a mark, something she'll have to cover with a scarf when the girls return home so not to be the target of too many snide remarks. His ministrations become too much and her first climax feels like hours ago as the heat rises in her core again. She bucks her hips in a desperate attempt to urge him inside her but when his tips grazes her she only succeeds in heightening her desire, with no positive advantages.

"Robert...darling...please." Her words come out in startled gasps as she tries to cool the storm brewing inside her. The dark cloud looming over her suddenly stills.

"Please 'what' Cora? What do you want?" She wriggles her hips against him again and she feels him twitch above her.

"You know." He drops three kisses against her jaw his hand moving to hold her hips still. That's the moment she realises what he's doing. He's going to tease her, tease her until she's howling with desire. He'd been generous earlier when he'd swirled his tongue where she wanted him but now; now, he was out for revenge on the way she'd taken him by surprise earlier. "Robert, please don't do this."

"Do what?" His throaty chuckle grazes her lips as he dips his tongue softly inside her parted lips. She attempts to lift her hips but he has her pinned. As his tongue retracts from her mouth she tilts her head back and moans his name, his hardened tip rubbing against her.

"That, do that."

"Which?" He lets his lips linger on hers, "That? Or this?" His arousal presses further this time, slipping a little way inside of her before she groans his name as he retracts, her hips bucking in a desperation to keep him inside her, nearer to her pending storm.

"The second. Please...please." He lowers himself over her and Cora looks up into his face as her neck arches and sees total concentration. This was, she knew, taking great control for him. He fills her half way this time and Cora pants his name as he retracts once more. She lifts her legs to surround his waist in a desperate attempt to make sure that is the last time he can tease her. The storm swirls inside her, the heat having mounted to uncontrollable levels, her blood races like the wind howling and her thoughts flash as if they're the sun peaking through the storm clouds as she struggles to think of anything that's not to do with her desire. Her need to have him.

"Your not being specific enough my love. What, exactly do you want?"

"You." She digs her heels into his buttocks, desperate to urge him closer.

"Which part of me and where?" She doesn't have the energy for his game, she only hopes he'll get the message if she acts it out. She lifts her back from the bed and tilts her hips towards him. She feels his tip graze her bundle of nerves, a droplet of liquid meeting her wetness before his hand pushes her hips firmly against the mattress. "Tell me Cora. Where?" His words are a groan in her ear and she knows he's as desperate as she is.

"Inside me." He brings his lips to hers and she lets her tongue tangle with his. Their swirls no longer a delicate breeze but a fierce whiplash of a wind.

"Here?" He mumbles the words against her lips as he rolls the pad of his thumb over her arousal. She can only nod, her thoughts consumed in trying to coax him inside her. She lifts her hips again but to no avail. "Cora," his voice is a growl and she knows he growls as much in annoyance that she's dragging it out for him than for the fact she's ruining his game, "answer the question, and you get what you want, the quicker you answer the question the quicker we get to that point. What do you want inside you?"

"You."

"Which part of me?"

"Your," a girlish innocence overwhelms her and a deep blush springs to her cheeks. She doesn't think she can say it out loud. She can't. She absolutely can't say that word out loud.

"I know you know it Cora." His voice wafts into her ear like a calm breeze and she closes her eyes, swallowing hard she takes a deep, measured breath and tilting her lips to rest against his neck she whispers the word against his sweaty skin.

She didn't know if Robert had heard her mumbled answer or whether the wait had got too much for him. All she did know was in the moment she had spoken the word against his neck, the word that sealed her fate, a loud moan emitted from her mouth and Robert groaned against her neck. He filled her completely, and when he began to move above her, his thrusts deep and fast due to their over aroused situation. She hissed his name and she was pleased when each time her hips meet his thrust he places another kiss, or bite, on her neck. He eventually had to hold his mouth away from her skin purely so that he could breath. Her back arched and she convulsed against him not long after they had begun, he followed a thrust later.

"Oh, my Cora. My darling." His kissed a pattern along her jaw to her lips, punctuating each kiss with a word as he struggled to regains his breath. "I...love...you...you're...beautiful...sexy...wonderful...and...mine" The storm clouds that had gathered in the dining room had met their end in the biggest shower of love the abbey had seen and as the last droplets of rain continued to fall Cora felt a single droplet of an entirely different nature curve a course down her cheek. She's knows that really the spoken words between the kisses are of far more value than the feelings they'd just shared. The physical attraction was one thing but the true worth of it only came with love for the person you shared that attraction with.

"I love you too my darling. I'll always be yours. Always." As he gently untangles himself from her she becomes aware of her surroundings for the first time since she entered the room. Her eyes follow the rose petals littered on the bed to the champagne resting in the cooler on the bedside table, a note is resting beneath it. She feels Robert's eyes on her back as she reaches for the note, Baxter's handwriting meets her curious gaze. "I hope you had a wonderful evening. It was all the Carson's idea but Molesley and I completed their vision so they could go home. It's a thank you from us for being such wonderful employers. Baxter." Robert shuffles to where she sits on the bed as she finishes reading the message aloud. His arms wrap delicately around her waist and he presses a kiss to her ear.

"I presume my darling that you had not noticed how the room was made up when we first entered?"

"No. I was distracted by you." He chuckles against her neck before reaching for the candles left on the side. He lights them carefully before flicking the lamps off and returning to his place beside her.

"They did a very good job of the room I must say. But for me, any room with you in it looks this beautiful." In the dim light of the room she hopes he can't see the warm hue of her cheeks. It seems Robert is out to flatter her tonight. She'd have to personally thank the Carson's, Molesley and Baxter in the morning. He lies against the pillows and pulls her down beside him, his tongue swirling at her skin while his hands massage her breasts. "It's quite like the candlelit room we spent our wedding night enjoying."

"Can we focus on the present Robert? I'd rather not remember my ridiculous innocence."

"Your innocence was what I loved. It was beautiful. And for the first time is many years I saw it again tonight. What was that word you mumbled against my skin Cora?" Her own peels of laughter echo in the still, humid air a moment later. It seems her time for answering was up and she was in line for the penalty, tickling. His lips devour her skin and her fingers tangle in his locks. Before long, the storm that had cleared was reappearing over the horizon. The difference was it wasn't quite as fuming, it was a rain storm not a thunder storm. The gusts of wind were slower, more loving and the touches of the breeze against her skin were delicate and protective not scar making. The difference was she supposed that before, the thunderstorm had still consumed pent up thoughts about Mr Bricker, this time the storm was entering a clear sky all doubt lost in the past.


End file.
